Things Like Loneliness
by dorianne77
Summary: Dante has a remarkably simple plan in mind when he enters the island of Fortuna: get rid of the 'spawn of Satan', collect enormous payment, buy lots of pizza. When his target turns out to be sporting a mop of silvery white hair, wide blue eyes and a way too serious Napoleon complex for a nine year old though, his plan goes off the rails rather quickly. AU where Nero is Dante's son.
1. Chapter 1

This job was turning out to be way more hassle than it was worth. Dante was far from being new to the game – he's seen and survived his fair share of dreadful places that even the toughest demons shied away from, but Fortuna? This island was seriously giving him the creeps.

The city had more churches than residential buildings, the citizens were covered in strange looking cowls as if they were some sort of monks, their militant religion enforced a strict curfew over the residents, and that was just the beginning of the very long list why the hunter started to harbor a distant feeling of aversion towards the place. The fact that the local population seemed to worship none other than his old man did not even make it to the top ten, and that was saying something.

The lack of pizzerias though? Now _that_ definitely made it to the podium. Not only did the damned city lack any kind of places that served the delicious goodness, people were not even familiar with the _word_. Who hasn't ever tried, or at least _knew_ what pizza was? The blank stares he got at the diners upon placing his order haven't ceased to surprise Dante, simply because if you're human, pizza should be in your vocabulary. No excuses. Even Trish agreed with him on that one, and she was a demon for fuck's sake.

"There he comes," Lady announced with a loud clap of her hands, effectively snapping the man out of his rebuilding outrage. The three hunters were perched on top of a building in a more high-end part of the residential area, clearly not occupied by average Joes if the amount of guards was anything to go by. Fortuna was big on advertising the benefits of blind religion, but 'His Holiness' was apparently preaching water while drinking wine – not unlike every other religious leader Dante ever had the misfortune to come across.

"That's just a cat, Lady," placated Trish, identifying the supposed intruder with her superior vision easier than her friend.

"Damn. It's fucking freezing out here," the black haired woman sighed disappointedly as she rubbed her hands together, burrowing back into the thick fur coat she was forced to purchase right upon their arrival. Winter on the island seemed to be much harsher than in Capulet City, and after sitting out in the open for almost three hours in the middle of the nigh even Dante found his teeth to be chattering every once in a while. A quick glance to Trish prevented him from complaining though – the woman appeared to be completely unaffected by the biting cold, sitting stoically still in nothing more than her revealing black corset and leather pants. She even went as far as leaning back on her hands and raising her chin in a mocking imitation of sunbathing, making a point of not identifying with the pitifully human practice of being cold.

Bitch.

Normally, Dante would have no reservations about ditching a job halfway if it proved to be too time consuming or generally not worth the effort, but the girls were right, there was something seriously off about this particular mission.

For one, technically it was already finished. All three hunters have been paid in full (very generously too) just this morning by their client Agnus, all in the midst of stuttered words of indescribable and overwhelming gratitude. It was as fake as it gets, Dante could have told that even without knowing the details about the phone call that led Lady – and consequentially Dante and Trish – here.

Agnus was apparently a big shot among the Holy Knights (another title the half-devil had to snort at), a researcher of some sort. What he researched wasn't entirely clear to him, although Trish said something about weapons and alchemy, but that was an entirely different can of worms Dante had no intention of stepping into.

The black haired huntress was visibly disturbed after receiving Agnus' call, not displaying her usual giddiness upon the promise of a small fortune as a possible payment like she usually did. According to Lady, the researcher sounded utterly terrified during those short minutes they conversed (not unusual for a victim in their line of work), swearing up and down that the spawn of Satan himself was forcing its way into his home every night, threatening him with the most gruesome ways of slow and painful death, throwing his guards around as if they were ragdolls. Apparently nothing the terrified man did proved to be effective in keeping the demon out – it slayed its way through the enforced security with no trouble at all, only stopping when Agnus himself was the only human left alive in the room. The ultimate purpose of the intruder did not seem to be killing the scientist – whatever kind of creature it was, it seemed to be more interested in driving Agnus out of his mind with whispered promises of pain and suffering, hurting him just enough to drive its point home. It had yet to act up on these promises towards their client personally, but Lady insisted Agnus was already more than halfway out of his mind with the nightly terrors he had to endure for god only knows how long. There were also words thrown around about claws and glowing limbs, and the fact that the entirety of a militarily organization failed to capture the creature suggested that the stuttering man's problem was very much demonic in origin indeed. Their kind of job.

While the mission did not sound more than a one-man show to either of them, Agnus' pleas of bringing as much reinforcement as she could led Lady to invite the other hunters along, not even flinching when Dante immediately demanded a 'fair' third of the payment. He could tell the woman felt like something was wrong about the man on the other end of the line, so he took only two bullets to the head before finally agreeing to come – Lady's hunches proved to be right at an irritatingly high rate, and as much of an asshole as he was, he figured hitting on her corpse would be a gazillion times weirder than doing so on her living self.

Not that Dante had never hit on dead things before, but that was thought for another time.

"Well, there's always the chance that we _did_ kill the thing in that castle," he supplied with a shrug, refusing to acknowledge the motion for what it really was: a shiver in disguise. His fingers were constantly dancing on the handles of his beloved twin pistols, hoping to keep the tremors of his digits hidden from the demoness. With all the shivering Lady was doing Dante wasn't concerned about _her_ noticing the signs of him being cold, but the raven haired woman did manage to distract him from his silent hatred for Trish by letting out a sneeze that could have roused the dead.

"I can't believe I'm saying this—" Dante started off with an eye roll that was supposed to conceal his concern for his friend's welfare, but as expected, he was cut off when said friend shoved a gun right under his nose.

"Then don't fucking say it."

"Lady, this is no weather for humans. Not even the guards dare to stay outside for more than an hour. Fuck," he sent a narrowed look towards the blonde, already anticipating her reaction to his admission, " _I_ am cold dammit."

Trish didn't even make an effort in hiding her smirk. Bitch.

"There was nothing intelligent enough in that castle that could have done this," Lady sniffed dramatically, but pulled her gun back under her coat with a groan. Apparently, Dante would only get that bullet once her hands lost their bluish hue, which, by the look of things, may not be today. "Besides, you saw Agnus too. Tell me I'm wrong."

Dante couldn't tell her she was wrong. Just like she predicted, the scientist was – for lack of a better term – off. Not just off, but _off_ , and in so many ways Dante couldn't even begin to count. It wasn't just the stutter – although, dude, get a freaking speech therapist – but the general vibe he sent off. The moment the hunter laid eyes on him, he begrudgingly had to admit that Lady was correct in her assessment – the guy was way outside of what were considered to be the limits of mental health. He was stooping pretty heavily and kept glancing around constantly for signs of danger, as if the walls themselves were capable of growing claws and tearing into his skin. Clearly he was driven by paranoia – but then again, that wasn't completely unexpected after what he supposedly went through.

Oh no, the real surprises started coming in only after Agnus caught sight of Dante.

Whatever the researcher intended to say died on his lips when as he assessed the half-devil with apprehension written all over his face, and during the nervous stuttering that followed, his story seemed to have lost all its relation to what he said in his initial phone call. He obviously recognized Dante, although refused to admit it. The claims about claws and glowing limbs quickly became sword like tails and blade like arms, and Agnus even went as far as to send them off to the abandoned Fortuna Castle on the far north of the island, claiming the demon surely took up residence in there.

The hunters did not bother pointing out the holes in that story – this was a paying gig after all, who were they to say no to the customer's wishes? They proceeded to cleanse the castle of a slight infestation of low level demons that matched the strange man's description perfectly, but that left them with more questions than answers.

The demons were clearly artificial – they looked like the result of a fucked up crossbreeding between a fish and several swords. They did not have the intellect to speak, which was a rather gaping hole in story Agnus was trying to sell. And let's not forget about the fact that creating demons is certainly possible with the use of alchemy – the can of worms Agnus was apparently very much into, if the unwitting way of him calling the creatures 'Cutlasses' was any indicator.

Then there was the way the scientist was so eager to send the hunters off with the money before even waiting a night to make sure his attacker was indeed taken care of. Lady had to actually argue with him in order to let them check back the next morning, and while the demon had obviously paid Agnus another visit during the night, he made a tremendous effort to convince them otherwise. The leftover pieces of broken glass and the talks among the guards about their freshly fallen comrades did not go unnoticed by the mercenaries, but the alchemist was clearly in a haste to see them off.

Whatever was attacking the man after sunset, Agnus decided he did not want the hunters to meet it, not even if his decision cost him his sanity or his life... and that decision was evidently related to Dante's presence. Somehow.

"One m-more hour, t-than we're takin' turns," Lady announced, successfully painting a frown over both her partners' faces. If Lady said she would be fine only for another hour, than she must have been much closer to actual death by hypothermia than either of her friends would have liked. Dante and Trish shared a now openly concerned look, silently agreeing that one of them will drag Lady back to their motel way before that hour was up – even if she will probably try to kick and scream her way out of it.

That is, if she will still be conscious by then.

' _Well, there's a disconcerting thought,'_ Dante amended silently, not keen on running a true risk of losing the woman to the poor weather conditions. As explosive (and sometimes downright hostile) as their relationship may seem to an outsider, friends were not exactly piling at the half-devil's door, and the idea of shortening that already curt list sent a sharp, unpleasant chill down his spine that had nothing to do with the temperature.

"That's it," he stood up in a sudden decision, trying to dismiss the hollow feeling. "We're taking turns now. Trish and I are first."

Lady had just enough time to pull the hammer back on her handgun when Dante made a quick dive and grabbed her by the wrist, effectively stopping her from aiming the barrel at him. The fact that she refused to remove her other arm from the coat to retaliate was a testament to how cold she must have been by now, but she refused to give in so easily. She looked Dante in the eye and let out a growl that didn't sound entirely human according to the male hunter.

"Take your hands of—"

"Let him have this one Lady. A few more minutes and you'll be out cold." The standing pair looked down at the demoness in momentary distraction, and Trish smirked up at them with unmasked glee in her eyes. "Bad choice of words?"

"Let. Me. Go." Lady demanded as she resumed glaring daggers at Dante, but after a few tense seconds it became obvious the man had no intentions of backing down. "I'll shoot you in the dick," she threatened in a dangerously low tone, and the half-devil's ice blue eyes widened involuntarily as he fought the urge to cover his groin with his hands. The woman may not be able to make good on her promise right now, but Dante had no doubts she would deliver later if he didn't comply. Oh man, the lengths he was willing to go for this harpy...

"Listen Lady, we have to—"

"Guys," Trish interrupted before he could start his reasoning, "it's already inside."

The hunter sighed in relief when Lady forcefully disentangled herself from his grasp and hurriedly joined the demoness, too grateful for little Dante's ensured safety to process the blonde's words.

"Dante, what the hell are you waiting for?"

The man blinked innocently at Lady's harsh tone, forcing his attention at the residence of their client. Agnus' apartment was at the top floor of a four level building, its darkened windows reflecting their surroundings and effectively shutting out any curious glances that may be targeting the insides. The hunters previously agreed that Dante will be the first to enter the scene after they spot the intruder, while Trish will help Lady with the hundred feet leap down to the balcony, seeing as there was nothing for her to grab onto that would break the fall.

Pausing only for a second to listen in, the half-breed got confirmation for Trish's words: something was breaking havoc inside the apartment indeed. Several deep voices were shouting, and just as Dante prepared to step over the railing, they heard the distinct sound of a gunshot.

"So much for gun prohibition," said Trish as she reached for Ombra, keeping Luce tucked away in her holster in order to hold onto Lady.

Despite feeling strongly disgruntled by the fact that their target was able to sneak into the building without his notice, Dante stepped over the brim casually, not fancying the idea of getting any more prompts from his human friend. After what they gathered from the guards a few hours prior, he was honestly expecting the demon to be taking a… more direct approach in its attack. The taunts it was entertaining Agnus with seemed to suggest it was a cocky bastard, so its lack of bursting in directly through a window surprised Dante a little bit.

Not as much as what happened next though: the moment the hunter's feet touched the wide railing of the balcony, something white and heavy crashed through the tinted windows in a blur, catching Dante directly in the gut and effectively throwing him off to the street below.

It took him a moment to realize that the now motionless body bleeding onto his chest was actually a Holy Knight – or at least what was left of him, anyway. The gaping wound below his ribs suggested he was missing at least a few of his more important internal organs, and his left arm had been unceremoniously yanked off straight from the shoulder.

It took Dante almost a full disorienting minute to realize that the stench emanating from the corpse didn't smell entirely human.

By the time he leapt back to the balcony with minimal effort, the girls were already inside what appeared to be the bedroom, standing over a quivering Agnus and five more dead guards laying in slowly gathering pools of blood. A quick look at Trish confirmed that she felt the dying demonic aura of the corpses too, it wasn't just his mind playing tricks on him.

"Where did it go?" Lady yanked up the scientist by the chin, all her previous problems about the temperature forgotten. "Where did it _go_?" she hissed at the man when she got no reply, her patience wearing thin with the lies and pretense Agnus kept throwing at them ever since they arrived.

"I d-d-dd-didn't see an-any—"

The cowering man was interrupted by a loud crash coming from the way of the adjoined room.

"Downstairs," Trish marched out of the room with the other two hunters hot on her heels, pointedly ignoring Agnus' protests and pleas of 'just leaving it be'. Whatever was going on in this godforsaken city, the scientist was clearly far from being an innocent victim in the act.

The trio followed the sounds of peeved neighbors outside the apartment all the way through the stairway, and ended up in the middle of the street where Trish paused to take a sniff from the air, hoping to catch the scent of their target. Dante didn't bother following suit – the demoness' sense of smell had always been superior to his own. If Trish didn't find a trail to follow, then no one would.

Luckily enough, she did, rather quickly at that. Just from the slight widening of her eyes Dante could tell the exact moment her senses picked up on the lingering scent, and the half-devil knew they were right on track – or at least he thought they would be in a few second as soon as she decided on a direction.

But then Trish's eyes widened further.

"What?" he a raised an eyebrow when the blonde woman directed her gaze at him, not liking the perplexed expression on her face one bit. It didn't fit her usually unbreakable confidence, and Dante guessed that whatever was the cause of that look, he wasn't going to like it.

"Nothing," she dismissed quickly before conveniently setting out in the direction of the closest dark alley, ignoring the mass of Knights pissing themselves over the body of their comrade who was thrown out of the building. Dante and Lady shared a suspicious look before they followed her. The short haired woman eventually gave a shrug under her white coat – they would probably figure out Trish's strange moment once they caught up with Agnus' attacker.

Much to Lady's chagrin, the demoness led them to the sewer system. The human's initial revulsion quickly turned into reluctant content when she realized the temperature was nowhere near as freezing as on the surface, but she kept the tail of her coat raised way above her knees, signaling that while she didn't make a fuss about coming down here, she didn't care about the waste they were stepping into. Or about the horrible smell that unavoidably came with the sewage.

Dante tried to update her about the less than human origins of the fallen guards back at Agnus' place, but Lady's only response was "No shit. One of them had _wings_ ," and that quickly shut that conversation down.

Speaking of smell, Trish gradually slowed down to a torturously boring pace, so in a rare spur of chivalrousness Dante decided to join in the sniffing contest, vaguely entertaining the idea of outdoing the blonde for once. Any hopes of that were crushed rather quickly.

The stench of the waste was overpowering, making Dante frown at the way Trish still seemed to be able to follow the trail, slowly as it may be. He made his way right next to the woman, leaning over her shoulder in a childish display of wanting to catch onto the same smell, but he got quickly shot down when a bony elbow connected sharply with his ribs.

"Fall back a bit, Dante."

Now, that was an unusual request.

"Why?"

The woman hesitated before giving an answer, watching from the corner of her eye as the half-devil made an effort to slow down and join Lady in the back even before she replied.

"Your scent is… interfering."

Well, that really wasn't something Dante wanted to hear. Interference meant that his own scent must have been very similar to what Trish was steadily following, and his thoughts immediately jumped to his twin…

Who had been conveniently dead for three years now, so no reason to continue that train of thought.

He hardly noticed how almost an hour went by before Trish finally pointed to an exit. By that time the demon's trail was lukewarm at best, but Dante's mind was still reeling with possibilities about their target's origin. As luck would have it, none of the scenarios his mind conjured up seemed to be terribly lovely.

"He left through there," Trish piqued before leading them out of the sewerage, and Dante was a little surprised that he could finally pick the trail apart from the surrounding odors now that it wasn't so oppressed. The scent wasn't entirely unpleasant, but it was so nondescript that he realized he had trouble holding onto it as the blonde led them to yet another shadowed alley. That only confirmed his assumption about it being eerily similar to his own: he was so accustomed to the fragrances of his own body that they barely even registered unless he was concentrating hard enough.

Dante was so focused on not losing the track that led to the demon that he almost bumped into Trish when she came to a halt, pointing to the dumpsters at the far back of the closed off alley. There was an incessant rattling sound coming from one of the containers, and the hunter almost snorted at the antics of the oblivious devil – keeping a low profile after openly attacking an 'upstanding' citizen obviously wasn't high on its prio list.

His amusement was rather short lived though, its intensity lessening rapidly as they closed in on the unknown creature. The outlines of the figure became clearer and clearer with every step the hunters took, and Dante almost took a double take when he identified the shape of two slender legs hanging over the edge of the dumpster.

Not only were they definitely human, they were also way too short to belong to an adult.

The two, adorably small feet (though Dante would forever deny the fact he even knows the word 'adorable') were covered in ratty sneakers so worn that the soles became completely loose, leaving ten pieces of dirty toes on full display for the onlookers. The thin legs were covered in an equally ratty pair of dark jeans, the material ending way above pale, bony ankles that were currently being swung wildly around in the air in an obvious attempt to navigate their owner out of the bin and back to solid land.

Trish's usually keen senses seemed to be in need of some heavy maintenance, since instead of leading them to the devil they were looking for, she ended up leading them to a street kid.

"It's him," the demoness hissed in a low voice, almost as if sensing the doubt of her abilities in her hunting partners.

Dante raised a skeptical eyebrow but took a few steps closer to the kid, wondering if Trish was at least right about him being a boy. He made sure to keep the fall of his feet light, not wanting to startle the child, and tried to feel for a demonic aura. He found none, at least not in close vicinity. The kid's scent was still unusually hard for him to tune into, but while it did feel familiar, it smelled human enough for the hunter.

Dante was forced to let go of this theory in less than ten seconds.

"Hah!" came the unexpectedly triumphant cry from among the bin bags, and soon the hunters were watching in silence as the kid emerged from the trashcan with a brown paper bag in his hands. The light gray hoodie he was wearing kept his face hidden from the mercenaries at this angle, but the faintly glowing hand that he reached into the paper bag with was definitely not a standard accessory for a human child. Neither were wickedly sharp looking talons, for that matter.

Damn Trish for always being right.

The small devil hummed in appreciation as he pulled a half-eaten burger out of the bag, and much to the hunters' shock he proceeded to tear into it with apparent gusto, completely oblivious to his audience. The onlookers watched the display of raw hunger in a slightly horrified awe for almost a full minute, too stunned to openly intrude on the strangely… personal act. It was Lady who finally decided to announce their presence by loudly clearing her throat, not wanting to witness any more of the depressing scene.

The boy's entire body froze the moment he heard the woman's voice, but after a few tense seconds he risked turning his head slowly towards the visitors. His sky blue eyes immediately zeroed in on Dante's icy ones, and the older male had to gulp at the sense of familiarity that hit him. Was there a chance he's came across the boy before?

The kid's mouth was still wide open from his previous attempt to take the next bite, and after half a minute of complete stillness he proceeded to raise the burger back to his mouth, never breaking eye contact with the hunter. He started to chew comically slowly, almost as if _he_ was the one making an effort not to spook the trio. Dante tilted his head at the strange behavior and the kid immediately paused his chewing, but when the man took no further action, the child cautiously resumed the halted motion. His swallow was clearly audible in the alleyway before he took his next bite leisurely, the thin body still half-twisted towards the hunters and only moving the muscles that were absolutely necessary to process the food.

Dante wasn't sure how laughing at the absurdity of the happenings would turn out, so he wisely kept his amusement at the dramatically slothful movements to himself.

"What's your name, kid?" he asked instead, hoping the child carried enough wit to be able to speak, as Agnus' original story suggested. He saw no reason to be hostile unless the kid proved to be feral.

The short demon paused in his motions again, seeming a little awed at being talked to. He offered his surprised reply around a big chunk of bun, letting a piece of lettuce escape from between his teeth as he did so.

"Ne-lo."

The immediate furrowing of his brows suggested that wasn't exactly the way he intended his name to come out, so he tried again after a hasty swallow.

"Nero."

Dante smirked at the small creature. Not a bad name.

"And just what are you doing out here after curfew, Nero?" the question came in a sickeningly sweet voice from Lady, causing the boy to finally break eye contact as he trained his gaze on the slowly approaching woman.

"Having breakfast?" he asked in turn with an innocent tone that was way over the top for a devil, blatantly ignoring the accusation of breaking the Order's strict rules. Dante couldn't suppress a chuckle upon seeing Lady's face at that reaction.

"It's the middle of the night," she supplied helpfully, but her attitude lost some of the sugariness as she raised an elegantly plucked eyebrow at Nero.

"Oh," the kid finally turned towards the hunters fully as a genuine look of realization settled over his soft features. "Well, I guess I might have skipped a serving or two at the fancy manor that I obviously live at."

Bite, chew, swallow.

Dante couldn't help the laugh that escaped him. It was loud, too.

"Obviously," Lady simply offered with a smile, not appearing to be bothered by Nero's implication of her stupidity. She was just contemplating her next question that would help them determine whether the child's level of humanity extended beyond most of his physical appearance, but the boy beat her to it after he carefully picked at a piece of onion with one of his claws, throwing it away with a look of disgust.

"Did Agnus send you?"

Bite, chew, swallow.

"Yeah. He hired us to kill you," Dante replied quickly before Lady could take the chance from him, wanting to see Nero's reaction to the words. The statement was technically still true, given that it was the young boy that wreaked havoc at Agnus' place not an hour ago. Even despite the glowing hand and the path that led them to this alley, Dante would never suspect Nero as the culprit if it wasn't for the drying blood on the sleeve of his hoodie. It seemed so impossible for a child of that size – and one with little to no demonic aura – to finish those Knights off in mere moments as he did.

"Hm," Nero gave a curt nod as he finished his current bite, answering in the same casual manner as the hunter spoke in. "He does that a lot."

Dante's smile froze on his face when the kid bent down for a fallen piece of bacon and proceeded to pop it into his mouth, paying no attention to the filth it collected from the ground. Demon or no demon, the urge to drag the kid into the nearest place that would serve them a hot meal was impossible to ignore, and Dante ended up having to turn away for a moment to bite that stupidly human impulse back.

It was only then that he noticed Trish's overly carefully arranged neutral expression, and realized she was being uncharacteristically quiet.

"You're not with the Order though, are you?" the kid regained Dante's attention, sending a pointed look to Ebony on his side before giving Trish a quick onceover. "Sanctus would shit bricks if he saw that outfit."

Bite, chew, swallow.

"Hah, no," Dante chuckled. The kid was turning out to be pretty amusing. "We're far from being Knights, kid… 'specially not Holy ones."

Nero nodded seriously, as if indicating that he would keep their 'secret' safe.

"Would you pass Agnus a message?" he asked, looking the older male in the eyes again. Well, at least Nero knew who the boss was among the three hunters. Dante hated to admit, but sometimes it came to a close draw between him and Lady. Most of the time. Definitely always.

Dante nodded, deciding to humor the tiny creature.

"Tell him…" Nero started off, taking another bite from the now almost gone burger, "that I changed my mind about drowning him in a tub of freezing water."

The hunter's eyebrows nearly disappeared into his hairline at the boy's words, but he watched on in silence as the kid paused for a moment to give into a full body shudder. Whether it was from the actual temperature or from a particular memory he relieved at his own words, Dante honestly did not want to know.

"Tell him that I will push my hand through his ribs instead," bite, chew, "and squeeze his heart just a little bit. Not enough to kill him, "swallow, "just enough to make it hurt."

Bite, chew, swallow.

"Tell him we're going to stay like that for a few hours," Nero raised his gaze to the sky for a heartbeat, his innocent expression suggesting he was contemplating the meaning of existence itself. "Or, you know.. at least until I have to pee."

Okay, maybe not the meaning of existence itself then.

"Oh," he went on with a disturbingly even tone, "and don't forget to add that I will also rip his still beating heart out, crush it in front of his eyes, and feed it to him before his body even realizes it's gone. Could you tell him that?"

To the hunters' credit, if any of them felt compelled to run and leave the child with that disturbingly innocent expression behind, neither gave any indication of being the first to give into their instincts. Dante felt almost relieved when the kid's eyes narrowed into slits, and his voice took on a more threatening manner. Almost.

"But don't say it like _this_ ," Nero made a vague gesture with his glowing appendage, probably referring to the casual manner he just talked about maiming a human being before forcing him to… did that ending count as cannibalism? "Be _scary_. Point your gun at him and everything." Nero's features went skeptical when he didn't receive any immediate feedback from Dante. "You _know_ how to be scary, right?"

For the life of him, Dante couldn't say if his own laugh was forced or genuine at that minute.

"How about a deal kid?"

Nero took a bite, and the man took the lack of immediate refusal as a sign of curiosity. He seriously hoped the girls didn't notice how the continuous eye contact the kid insisted on keeping was starting to unnerve him just the slightest bit.

"Tell us why you're so interested in scaring the guy out of his mind, and I'll be scarier than the devil himself when passing down your message."

Dante was aiming to hit a lighter note, and the smirk he was rewarded with suggested he apparently succeeded. Nero gave a careless shrug before tucking the remaining pieces of the burger into his mouth, and threw the ball of wrapping paper over his shoulder without bothering to look. It landed in the center of a smaller trashcan perfectly.

"I'm one for holding hardcore grudges."

Finally, _finally_ breaking eye contact with the hunter – seriously, what was it with the staring? – Nero lowered himself into a slight squat, and before any of the mercenaries could react, he was already looking down at them from the roof of the building they were currently facing, a bow and a salute all he was willing to offer as a parting gift.

"Fuck!" Dante immediately moved in to give chase, but the only thing he could think about as he ascended was how – despite the added distance – the new angle gave him a better view on the kid's face, and on that suspicious white blur that slipped out of his hoodie before Nero turned to run.

 _'It better not be his goddamned hair...'_

* * *

So, in this story I took the liberty and made Nero Dante's son. There will be lots of angst and hurt/comfort moments, so better be prepared. ;)

No pairing for anyone now, but taking suggestions for the future. Rating may also go up (probably due to cursing and some blood/gore here and there - sex might come up at some point too but this is generally not a lemony fic).

This chapter had not been beta read, so feel free to point out any spelling/grammar related mistakes you may find.

Reviews are also always welcome: please take a short minute to let me know if you liked what you read or not (or several minutes if you feel like giving a full critique). :) Thank you very much!

Cover art is done by me:

dorianne77 deviantart com


	2. Chapter 2

The kid turned out to be a sprinter.

This particular tidbit of information didn't concern the son of the legendary Sparda at first. Dante was more of a marathoner himself – he preferred to rely on strength and stamina rather than speed whenever he could help it, but having demon blood still gave his agility enough of a boost that he could outrun most of his opponents without any real effort.

Well, not this time.

Nero's speeding form must have been a blur to the untrained eye: he jumped from roof to roof without breaking pace once, completely unbothered by the height difference between the buildings that sometimes added up to several dozen feet. If he was aware of being followed he didn't seem to be terribly distressed by it – he kept humming a melody that sounded vaguely familiar to the slayer, but even after reaching a speed that Dante considered to be his personal physical limit, he was still unable to gain enough distance on the kid to make out the actual words.

And that was the point where the son of Sparda started to grow concerned.

The girls apparently decided to wait the chase out – probably assuming Dante would make quick work of catching the young demon – so the man was forced to come up with a solution to this highly unusual predicament alone.

Ugh, he _hated_ thinking. The little shit would have to pay for that.

Well, the gap didn't seem to be increasing between them and while Nero already proved to be full of surprises, Dante was still certain he had a vast advantage when it came to strength. He could simply wait until the brat run out of steam, which would probably happen sooner rather than later with the pace he had set. There was a problem with that plan though: the little pest could decide to smarten up and take cover among the towering buildings any given moment, and without Trish's ability to follow him purely by scent, Nero would be lost to Dante the moment he managed to disappear from the man's line of vision.

Nope, too risky.

Option number two would involve cutting the entirety of their current distance before the kid could get any funny ideas about changing course without notice, but as baffling as it was, Dante didn't see that happening without giving full rein to his devil side. Doing that however held the potential of scaring the young demon into a more violent approach, and somewhere along the way the hunter seemed to grow some serious reservations about hurting the boy unprompted. Might have happened during watching him getting dinner from a trashcan, but who was he to tell.

"Kid, wait up! I'm not gonna hurt you!"

Nero's giggle suggested that pleading innocent just minutes after admitting to being hired assassins didn't carry an unbearable amount of brilliance, and Dante felt a little grateful that the girls weren't there to witness his half-assed attempt at stopping the boy. This night was turning out to be more humiliating than what the half-breed was comfortable with.

"Hurt me?" the kid offered in an amused tone without breaking stride, one hand reaching under the back of his hoodie. "I'd like to see you try."

Dante wasn't expecting that bullet that was flying precisely towards his chest a heartbeat later, but he opted against dodging, unwilling to break the straight line he was moving in. If the brat thought he could slow him down with a few pieces of metal, he had another thing coming.

But so did Dante, apparently. The shot's impact on his sternum was almost enough to thrown him back into a halt, leaving a clean exit wound on his back that barely missed the spine. While Dante was stunned by the realization that he was hit with a bullet infused with demonic energy, the kid seemed to be stunned by the fact that Dante was… not dying rapidly? They stopped moving at the same time, blinking at each other stupidly.

"That… usually works," Nero said with an utterly confused expression, and started to examine his gun with a critical eye. Dante identified the weapon as a Smith & Wesson – an older model with a double barrel and recoil that should have sent the boy flying, even if he only fed it with one bullet at a time. A splash of crackling blue paint adorned the shiny metal just above the grip, forming some kind of flower as far as the hunter could tell. Saying that the revolver was almost as long as Nero's entire arm was only a tiny bit of an exaggeration, and despite its obvious weight it was twirled around in the tiny hand with a ridiculous ease that made it impossible for the older male not to be impressed. How the hell did he not notice that thing under the boy's hoodie?

"Look kid, I know I said we were hired to kill you, but—

Dante had to move a little to the right to avoid Nero's next bullet, which was aimed straight at the heart this time.

"…but that doesn't mean we will actually—"

He dodged again, avoiding a headshot effortlessly.

"…do it."

Another bullet was fired, but seeing it wouldn't hit anything vital, Dante let it pass through his gut. God, Patty would scold him to death for that level of laziness.

"Come on Nero, I just wanna talk. No one has to get hurt."

Or rather, no one has to get _more_ hurt than Dante already was, which apparently wasn't nearly enough if the young demon's expression was anything to go by. Nero scrutinized the wounds on the man's torso, and after seeing how they were closed up almost completely he started to reload bullets into his gun one by one with a frustrated sigh. It didn't take more than a second for a shot to appear in his human hand, crashing the hunter's previous assessment of him as a child with 'little to no demonic energy'.

Dante was somewhat intrigued by Nero's method of loading up – he never tried preparing ammunition in advance, thinking it pointless when he could simply make it the on the spot. Also, putting effort into manually loading his twin guns would make people think he was being less lazy than it was customary, and he was not willing to deal with the expectations _that_ would set.

"Talk about what?" Nero surprised Dante by speaking up: the furrowed brows suggested he was more interested in killing the slayer than talking to him, but Dante wasn't going to miss his chance of returning to less violent waters.

"Agnus."

"Not my favorite topic," the kid deadpanned without looking up from his weapon, making Dante smirk at the forced nonchalance.

"Who would have guessed," the devil hunter muttered under his breath, but the twitch under the boy's left eye suggested his hearing was also superior to a human. "So, are you really planning to kill him?"

"Eventually," shrugged Nero, adding another shot to the cylinder. Four down, two to go, noted the older male.

"Why?"

"Well, he _does_ actively try to kill me," came the boy's answer without missing a beat, earning an amused snort from Dante.

" _Well_ ," he started in a bad imitation of Nero's voice, "someone _does_ keep butchering his men like murder is going out of fashion."

It was Nero's turn to snort at that, but his tone held far less amusement than Dante's.

"He's breeding demons."

"Doesn't necessarily mean he deserves to die," answered the man, conveniently leaving his opinion on how it was actually a close call, unvoiced. Dealing with the shit they had on the alchemist was definitely not going to be forgotten.

After finishing loading the revolver Nero finally looked up and tilted his head in contemplation, sending an uncertain look at the hunter.

"He stutters?"

Dante raised an eyebrow at that.

"You'd kill someone because of a speech problem?"

"You wouldn't?" came the skeptical reply with a similar raise of an eyebrow, and Dante had to laugh at the kid's point because yeah, he totally would. Not a human, certainly, but a stuttering demon? Dante couldn't see himself sitting through a sluggish explanation of world domination plans without chopping a few heads off mid-sentence.

This train of thought distracted the man long enough to barely avoid Nero's next bullet, which still managed to graze his temple. The boy huffed in annoyance and Dante's eyes caught the halted motion of a stomping of a foot. Throw in a pout and Nero would be having an honest to god hissy fit.

"Stop _moving_ dammit!" he hissed as he fired the remaining shots at Dante's upper body, who – deciding to humor the kid – took them with a huge smile on his face that only served to aggravate the young demon further. The new wounds on Dante's chest bled more profusely than those of Nero's previous attempt though, and encouraged by his progress the kid flipped the gun's cylinder open once more, intending to reload for another round.

"Try making them as you go."

The unexpected advice startled the boy enough to look up at the hunter, the moonlight reflecting from his sky blue eyes as they narrowed in suspicion. Dante couldn't fault the kid for his mistrust – who in their right mind would offer tips on their own execution, after all? Still, he couldn't help but want to see if Nero could pull off the same trick with the revolver as he did with Ebony and Ivory, chalking it up to the competitive streak of his demon side.

"The fresher the bullet, the bigger the oomph," he offered with an encouraging smile, only half-expecting his words to be actually true – it's not like he ever experimented with this before, but the increased amount of energy in Nero's second round made his conclusion… not _completely_ unfounded. Kind of.

To Dante's pleasure, the kid decided to listen to him: he pushed the empty cylinder back to its original position and pointed the gun at the older male as a look of deep concentration overtook his features.

"Stay still," he hissed in a low tone, and Dante chuckled as he held up his hands in mock surrender, signaling he would heed the warning.

It took Nero a few heartbeats (and some seriously adorable glaring at his gun) to force a shot out of the weapon, but when he finally managed it, the slayer was actually forced to take half a step back upon the impact on his stomach. The wound was gaping compared to the previous ones, and Dante felt like something, that would be considered vital if he was human, was ripped to shreds inside – probably his liver, if he had to take a guess. Nero's smile could have lit a Christmas tree, and Dante found himself returning the gesture as he felt his devil side rumble in satisfaction.

The smile froze on his face a second later however, when he realized what the implications of his own reaction were. His demon wasn't competing with the young creature as he previously assumed – it was radiating an entirely different feeling, something Dante haven't felt from his devil side since he and Vergil have been kids.

It was _proud_ of Nero, _pleased_ to have taught him something valuable.

Now, Dante would be the first to admit that his name and the word 'stupid' weren't exactly strangers to each other when it came to other people expressing their opinion of him, but the hunter knew these accusations were based more on his happy-go-lucky manner rather than his actual level of intelligence. Sure, he pulled some crazy shit in his younger years, but the man was way past his childish phase of blatantly ignoring the inner movements of his non-human side. The damn thing was brash, arrogant and driven more by instinct than conscious thought, but it wasn't stupid. Dante gulped at what its response to the boy's actions suggested: demons don't casually assume the role of a teacher with just any creature that seems younger than them, and they sure as hell don't feel pride over their apprentice's feats… not without a damn good reason.

Dante knew it was time to clear the air, preferably before that daunting voice in his head drove him nuts. Forcing a smile again the mercenary spoke up before he could talk himself out of addressing the elephant in the room – something he was actually _very_ tempted to do since the moment Nero leapt on that roof from the alley.

"And now that I have you in my debt —" he started merrily but stopped just as quickly, realizing he had no way to finish that though without suggesting theories that might very well have nothing to do with the truth. How do you go about something like this anyway? _Hey kid, would you mind shedding that damned hood so I could see the color of your hair and make sure we are not related despite our scents being almost completely identical and my devil giving a fucking purr at teaching you to shoot with more power?_ Yeah, that would go over really well.

Unfortunately Dante didn't have too much time to contemplate his next move, as Nero was suddenly within touching distance, having five demonic claws forming a tight ring around the man's left ankle before he could even register the movement. The sleeve was rolled up around the demonic limb (Dante wasn't even surprised anymore at not seeing the boy do that), exposing dark purple flesh that was adorned with deep red scales and the occasional spiked outgrowth on the armor like surface. A bright blue glow engulfed the tips of the sharp talons and the veiny cracklings among the brownish hide, centering in the palm in a swirling pool of light. It illuminated Nero's face perfectly as he looked up at the slayer with a devilish smirk, tightening his grip on the trapped ankle.

"No one asked for your advice, old man."

The kid's actions left little mystery in his plans of forcefully removing the older male from the immediate vicinity, yet Dante couldn't tear his gaze away from the thin layer of freckles that dusted over Nero's pale cheeks and button nose. The man's heart jumped into his throat at the close up of the dark lashes that encircled the child's cerulean orbs, and suddenly he felt his blood freeze in his veins because _no_ , this couldn't possibly mean what he thought it meant, but then Nero's demonic aura flared up in an oh-so-fucking familiar burst of energy and Dante blinked and he inhaled and he tried to will his body to _move_ and time stopped like a _year_ ago and yet…

And yet the frightening realization that he _knew_ those eyes just refused to go away.

"Fuck."

That was the only coherent word the son of the legendary Sparda managed to push past his lips before Nero pulled the ground from bellow his feet, and proceeded to effortlessly hurl him through the air and straight towards a lower level of a neighboring building.

Dante knew how this situation would play out: he would crash into the bedroom of an unsuspecting Fortunian couple who'd be screaming bloody murder, and while he would be busy wasting precious seconds on gathering his wits, the kid would take the opportunity to leave the range of his radar. That was fine with the hunter: islands had this convenient quality of having only a limited amount of space to hide at – they would find Nero within a few hours at most.

What _wasn't_ fine with Dante was spending those hours in an endless loop of asking the same question over and over again and _not knowing for_ _sure_.

In a hasty decision the half-devil pulled Ivory from her holster mid-fall and fired a single shot with the intention of barely grazing the hoodie at the back of Nero's head, hoping to catch the material in a way that would reveal at least part of the boy's hair.

He had a rare moment of panic when the kid decided to throw his head back at that same exact moment, but thankfully Nero proceeded to lean his body back swiftly until he was out of harm's way once again – flipping Dante the bird with an overly smug grin for good measure. The hunter nearly gasped in relief when he saw the bullet passing by Nero's face safely, but in the end the kid's rapid movement achieved Dante's original goal as it caused the hood to drop down to its owner's nape, effectively exposing a mop of unruly hair that was lightly streaked with dried blood.

Nero's parting bullet caught Dante right between the eyes a mere second before he crashed into the building, and the last thing that registered on his consciousness was his demon's possessive growl of _'MINE!'_ as it demanded him to grab hold of that silvery whiteness and never let go again, _ever_.

Dante Sparda has never felt so conflicted over a color in his life.

…

"Dante! Dante – what actual the _fuck_?! Where's the kid?"

Lady was in his face before he could even properly open his eyes, thrusting the barrel of her gun under his Adam's apple with a force that would make a human's windpipe crush under the pressure. Trish's voice sounded muffled compared to the raven haired woman's shrieking.

"Lady, let him have some—"

"Don't fucking tell me what to do with the fuckhead! Dante, wake the fuck up already or I swear I—I'll shoot you again you fucking… you fuckstick!"

Wow, that was a lot of unoriginality stuffed into ten seconds. Lady was usually a lot more creative when she had to come up with degrading names to call the hunter, and Dante didn't think he heard her actually stutter in anger before. He didn't know how much time had passed since he blacked out, but the woman sure didn't sound to be suffering from hypothermia anymore.

Somehow that wasn't as much of a reassuring thought as it should have been at the moment.

After Dante finally managed to pry his eyes open, a few blinks cleared his vision enough to assess his surroundings. He was laying on the floor of what he assumed to be someone's living room (which was now decorated with a Dante-shaped hole in one wall), surrounded by debris and…about two dozen spent shotgun cartridges. Wow. No wonder the residents of the place were nowhere in sight – a supposedly dead man crashing into your apartment was one thing, but a livid woman storming in and emptying shell after shell into said dead body? The man was pretty sure those people would need some intensive therapy before they would stop pissing themselves in their sleep like toddlers again.

"Where the fuck is Nero, Dante?!"

Oh, right, he almost forgot how the livid woman was still focusing her psychotic breakdown on him. Seeing that Lady's key issue seemed to be related to his inability to keep the kid in sight, Dante couldn't help but feel like shooting him with a shotgun while he was still out was quite counterproductive if she wanted him to find the brat. Of course, that is not to say he was stupid enough to give voice to that thought.

"Don't rightly know," he ended up muttering in hoarse whisper, suspecting his throat must also have caught one of those shells during the woman's rampage. Damaged vocal chords were always fun to heal.

"What do you mean you _don't know_?" Lady practically sneered at him, and Dante realized that during the entire course of their friendship this was the first time he felt like the woman would be willing to go beyond a few bullets to the head. Lady's tone said she would seriously hurt him if he failed to give her the answer she was expecting.

If the tight feeling that chose his chest as its new home would persist on staying for much longer, Dante might just let her.

"I _mean_ he ran off while I was busy recovering from _your_ goddamned shots," he growled lowly at the woman, too tired to stop the outburst of his demon side. He agreed with Lady on the core issue: it was definitely his fault that Nero slipped away, but that didn't mean his devil was going to accept all charges just as readily. He noticed Trish glancing at him with a seriously worried look, and only the phenomenon of that rarely seen expression on the demoness' face made him realize how close to triggering he actually was.

"I wouldn't have shot you if you didn't lose him in the first place!" screamed Lady without acknowledging the threat in his voice, shoving him back to the floor when he attempted to sit up. Trish's placating words went completely unnoticed by both of them. "How the fuck did you get bested by a fucking _midget_?! And how the hell do you even have a kid – for fuck's sake, Dante! Is he really your son?"

And there was that word. _Son_.

Dante's first impulse was denial: he wanted to tell the woman that the white haired boy was in no way related to him, but he knew that no refusal of belief would make that fact any less true. The kid was his own flesh and blood, and while Dante was definitely no father material, he would never stoop so low as to reject his own kin – not even if said kin wasn't present to hear it.

And besides, the instinct to deny didn't come so readily to the slayer because he didn't _want_ Nero. No, if anything, the devil in him was pretty much ecstatic over having an offspring of the kid's caliber: Nero was strong, fast, and quick-witted – what was there not to be proud of as his sire? So no, the boy was not the issue.

What Dante had a problem with was… himself. The reason why every fiber of his body wanted to refuse the situation was because if Nero really was his offspring, then Dante inevitably became _that_ person. The one who failed to take care of his family, the one whose children went 'Look, dinner!' when they stumbled upon an apple on the ground next to the local fruit shop. He would become the absentee father, the one that Sparda was to him, and the one he swore to never become to anyone, not even if his life depended on it.

How the hell did this happen anyway? Well, not the technical part – Dante knew how _that_ happened for sure – but he always made a point of letting the women he slept with know where to find him in case his trusty 75 cent insurance policy ever failed (or, you know, in case they wanted a repeat performance). Considering how vigorously he used to frequent Love Planet between Virgil's two appearances, it was hard to imagine Nero's mother to be anyone else than a working girl – so how was she not jumping at his throat when she was faced with the opportunity of getting child support?

"Dante!" Lady's voice drew him back to the present with a rather painful smack, and the horrified expression Trish sported made him realize his friends fully expected him to try and play this off. Had he not been so busy with wallowing in self-pity, he might have actually been hurt.

"Yeah," he acknowledged her previous question softly, "Yeah. He is mine."

Trish was visibly relieved by the quiet admission, but the words somehow only seemed to piss Lady off even further.

"Tell me you didn't know about him Dante, or so help me—"

"Of course I didn't— what the _hell,_ Lady? You really think I would let him eat out of trashcans if I knew? Is that what you think of me? That Dante the jerk would be perfectly fine with his son sleeping on fucking park benches at night?!"

Lady had the decency to look ashamed at the accusation. She took a deep breath and removed her gun from Dante's throat.

"Okay," she said as she stood up and started to pace the length of the room, "Okay."

Dante knew that a whispered okay was the closest thing he would ever get to an apology from the black haired woman, but while he was still slightly offended by her reaction, he was too tired to refuse an opportunity to end the fight. His demon still demanded to take her head off for thinking so low about his 'paternal instincts', but Lady looked more distressed now than angry and those demands quickly died down to be half-hearted at best.

"Who's the mother?" asked Trish in a considerably warmer tone, but as much as Dante appreciated her usually calming approach, the topic she touched still caused him letting out an involuntary growl before he gave his answer.

"No idea, but she better be dead."

Lady came to an abrupt stop at hearing the threat in his voice, but after a few tense seconds she gave a curt nod and resumed her pacing. She could certainly understand his stance on the matter: if the boy's mother was still alive, that meant she pushed Nero out onto the streets, withholding all chances from Dante at caring for the child. If this was the case, Lady would have no qualms about seriously hurting the woman, and she was sure Dante and Trish would do much more than that if they ever got their hands on the bitch. She better be dead alright.

Seeing that her partners were both too caught up in their respective inner turmoil, the demoness decided to take the lead and held a hand out for Dante, offering to help him up from the ground even though she knew he didn't need any assistance in such a mundane task.

"Come on, I bet our resident alchemist will have a lot more to tell us this time if we give him a little… incentive."

Dante took the outstretched hand with a grateful sigh, and Lady's crooked smile promised violence on a level the island has never seen before. Sure, the mission has taken an unexpected turn and yes, they still had a lot to talk about, but none of that truly mattered right now. For now, all they knew was that if anyone would be foolish enough to try and stand between the three of them and Nero, they would teach the poor bastards a little something about how they settle family matters in Capulet City.

…

Agnus' apparently hasty departure from his apartment didn't come as a surprise for the trio – the son of a bitch knew what was coming his way the moment he realized that Dante had a connection to his little nighttime attacker. The mess he left in his residence suggested he wasn't planning to return anytime soon, and since the guards on duty (who were decidedly human this time) claimed to know nothing about his current whereabouts, the hunters decided to go through his belongings methodically, searching for something that could give his destination away.

His study held most of the information they gathered on him so far: besides the countless books on alchemy there were detailed reports on Agnus' preferred methods of creating demons artificially, and they even found papers on some angel creating ritual called an 'Ascension Ceremony'. The guy was so fucked in the head it wasn't even funny, but that wasn't what stood out the most if you took a look around the place. The room was in shambles– it was obvious that Agnus collected some stuff before he left, saving something he obviously deemed more important than his little projects of mass producing 'Gladiuses' and 'Cutlasses'. But what could that be?

The only clue the trio had seemed to be linked to a bunch of missing data discs: the shelving on the wall besides the door was nearly full of them, spare for two shelves in the middle that stood suspiciously empty. It was Trish who noticed Dante eyeing the shelves first and walked up to him, breaking him out of his thoughts that seemed to unavoidably crawl back to a certain silver haired boy time and time again.

"We should look at one of these," she offered as she also looked through the selection, scanning the labels that were named in the most boring fashion a scientist could possibly come up with. The top shelves were filled with discs named 'Project C', while the ones below the empty shelves were all titled 'Project G', all with an additional numbered day in each title. It didn't take a genius to figure out they stood for Cutlass and Gladius – the names Agnus decided to call his pet monsters.

"No point, he already took the good stuff," replied Dante with a disappointed sigh, pointing to the empty spots on the shelves and the few empty cases laying on the floor that were probably shattered by accident during the alchemist's hasty exit.

"I know," Trish proceeded to pick out a disc at random with the title 'Project C, day 296', and turned towards Dante with an encouraging smile, "but these may give us an idea about where his super-secret villainy laboratory is."

The hunter couldn't help but smile back at the blonde – trust her to never fail at being the thinker of the group. Trish made her way to the computer at the huge wooden desk (which already proved to have no useful information after Lady's quick scan) and pressed a button to open the disc drive, but her brows furrowed when she noticed the reader was already hosting another disc.

Project N, day 703.

Trish picked up the shiny piece of plastic with the end of a polished black nail, but she almost dropped it when her mind suddenly connected the dots.  
The empty shelves. The kid's personal grudge against the scientist. Evidence that would presumably turn them against Agnus.

Project Nero.

"Hell _no_!" she heard Dante's gruff voice from over her shoulder, apparently coming to the same conclusion. Trish gulped at the tone but her shoulders slumped when she saw the slightly panicked expression on the man's face as she turned to him. She wanted to offer reassurance so much, she wanted to say that they had no proof this had anything to do with the boy, but she was unable to voice those thoughts because they would be lies if they were put into words. She was a devil – she knew better than to believe in divine forces, but just this once, please, _'_ _ **please**_ _don't let this be what I think it is…'_

"It's not necessarily—"

"Put it back."

"Dante—"

"Put. It. _Back!_ "

Lady was at Trish's side immediately after hearing the barked order from the man, but she understood the reason for the commotion after a single glance at title of the thing the demoness was holding. She wasn't a fan of the theory that got her partners so agitated in less than a minute either, but Dante's expression suggested he was going to nuke the entire island if Trish didn't start moving right now, so she nudged the demoness who put the disc back to where she found it and closed the lid hesitantly.

Dante was practically snarling at the machine as they heard it whirl up.

The contents showed up on a blank screen: a single file with the same title as the disc itself. It was a video.

Lady was going to not so subtly suggest that Dante should maybe continue his search in another room for a while 'just in case', but the hunter's eyes were already tinted with red and she knew that if she attempted to get rid of him now, Dante just might find a way to shove her suggestions up to someplace unsanitary in a quite literal way. Knowing when she was beaten, Lady leaned over the keyboard with a tired sigh, and started to play the video.

Half an hour later, the huntress was sure that no matter what life had in store for her yet, she was never going to regret anything as much as pressing that button on this godforsaken day.

* * *

Hi there, sorry for the long wait but hey, the next chapter is almost ready, so no weeks-long waiting this time. :)

I know Dante has all those Trickster and Quicksilver moves in the games that he could have used to catch up with Nero, but they don't seem to fit into a more realistic take on the DmC universe for me, so I decided not to make use of them. Not sure if that makes the whole thing AU or not, but I guess it's not much worse than changing the uncle/nephew relation between Dante and Nero, so… yeah.

Thank you guys sooooo much for the reviews, they really keep one motivated! ;) I'm so glad you seem to like the story so far.

And since it's 3 a.m. and I'm lazy, I will just copy the stuff that still applies since the last chapter:

This chapter has not been beta read, so feel free to point out any spelling/grammar related mistakes you may find.

Reviews are also always welcome: please take a short minute to let me know if you liked what you read or not (or several minutes if you feel like giving a full critique). :) Thank you very much!


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